


Reconciliation Time Again

by misura



Category: Razor Sharp (2006)
Genre: Christmas, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-09-03 14:47:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8718010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Dex invites himself for a visit at Christmas.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scribblemyname](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemyname/gifts).



Bryce dusted off the genuinely fake Christmas tree Veronica remembered Dad bringing home after a job in Paris, and he and Isis spent half a day fixing the string of colored lights that only ever seemed to work for two days before short-circuiting - "Is job for clever girl who is good with small hands, " Bryce had said, and Veronica had decided not to ask why, in that case, _Bryce_ was suited for it.

"This place looks like a fire hazard," Isis said, once they had the den looking as festive as it ever would.

_So same as usual, but with more colors?_ Veronica thought.

"Abigail likes it," Bryce said firmly. "Special time of the year deserves special look around the house."

Isis sighed. "I guess it's okay." Coming from her, that was a compliment.

"Is precious, is it not?" Bryce asked, looking at Veronica. "Like family, all of us here, together."

"Yeah," she said. "That's something precious. Something worth protecting."

"You guys aren't going to get all weepy or something, are you?" Isis asked.

 

"A gift for the little lady, hm?" Bryce said, rummaging around in one of the many, many boxes he had stored away in various places.

Most of them contained gadgets that had worked at one point in time and might again.

"What were you thinking? In case you hadn't noticed, she's kind of picky."

"You - you will buy her something nice." Bryce thrust a small wooden box at her. "Sell this, if you must. Is old. I, now, I will play dress up and be funny. Make her laugh."

"You're ... dressing up as Santa?" The mind boggled.

"See? Smiling already," Bryce said, his expression smug. "Besides, hair no longer dark enough for Elvis."

"Right. Thanks, I guess."

"No problem. Ho, ho, ho."

 

On the second day of Christmas, the powers that be brought to their doorstep one British, third-class slimeball, looking like something the cat had, on second thought, decided to be better left in the gutter.

"Sorry, no sollicitation at the door," Veronica said. She'd just saved nearly all of the cookies she and Isis had baked, and it was almost certain that the kitchen would, at some point, be wholly smoke free.

"Now, no need to get your knickers all twisted, darling," Dex said, holding out a bubble wrap envelope as if it was a gift. "For you. Hand-picked by yours truly."

"You gotta be kidding me," Veronica said. He probably wasn't.

Dex was Dex, after all, and a job was a job. "Should appeal to your white knight's instincts. Pay's appalling, but then, what can you expect? Such is the economy."

"It's Christmas. How did you even _find_ me?"

"Is that an invitation to dinner I'm hearing?" Dex moved in a way that suggested he might be amenable to being invited inside.

Veronica moved in a way that implied she might be amenable to breaking his arm or, at the very least, giving it a good twist. "No."

"Ronnie." Dex bestowed a reproachful look upon her. "Don't tell me you're still sore about our little disagreement last time we parted ways. You needed some time, work through some issues. Hurtful things were said, mistakes were made - let us speak of it no more."

"Better yet, let's stop talking entirely."

"I swear, nobody holds a grudge like a woman." Dex sighed. "What do you want, an apology? Fine. I'm sorry. My temper got the better of me. I was concerned for your safety. It's a dangerous world, pet."

"Veronica?" Bryce, his timing every bit as reliable as that of his flash grenades. "Who is it?"

Dex waggled his eyebrows, for reasons obscure and mysterious.

"It's just Dex." No need to mention the job. She wasn't going to take the job.

"Ask him in, to stay for dinner," Bryce said. "We can make it so that no one will ever find his body."

"Same old Bryce, eh?" Dex said, wriggling his way past her and then making it look as if she'd let him. "God, but this place brings back memories. Hasn't changed a lick. What, no taste for home decoration? It's a form of art, pet. Like painting."

"I don't paint." Not true, strictly speaking; she'd helped paint Isis's new room.

"Pity. I find it's very relaxing. Oh, do take this off my hands, will you, there's a good girl?" The bubble wrap envelope reappeared. She wondered how much money Dex was making by way of commission.

A solid chunk, probably, given his insistence. "I'm not a good girl, Dex."

"Have you been a bad girl, then, Ronnie? Do tell, I'm all ears and zero judgment."

"Last job you gave me, I ended up kidnapping a ten year old girl."

"And look how well that worked out for everyone involved," Dex said, all fake cheer and charm. "Well, everyone except me, but we already discussed that. Still, I do feel you're undervaluing the role I played in bringing about this happy new family of yours."

"Hey." Isis barely even glanced at Dex, which was good. Not as good as it would have been if he hadn't seen her at all. "Bryce wants to know where we keep the rat poison."

"Tell Bryce he should stick to what he knows."

"Okay."

Dex smirked at her as Isis vanished back into the kitchen. "See? Much happier than she'd have been if you'd left her in that boring old vault. Face it, darling, you owe me." He held up the envelope. "Don't fret, it's not as if I'm asking you for a freebie. Cold hard cash upon delivery."

"You know, Dad didn't have a lot of things he didn't do, but he did have one rule."

"No need to remind me how much more easy-going your father was, pet. I'm well-aware. Of course, he didn't smell nearly as nice as you do - not usually, anyway. Incidentally, is something on fire?"

"Your pants?"

"Ronnie. Trying to cook like a proper housewife? How absolutely quaint. I'm crushed I wasn't there to see it."

"I'm sure you are."

 

"You actually let him stay for dinner?" Isis asked, eying Dex with a suspicion that warmed Veronica's heart. "Why?"

"As they say: keep your friends close, but your enemies - well, you should just blow them up," Bryce said. "Crusty bomb still go boom real good, just like new, shiny bomb."

"Would you believe he was born in Oklahoma?" Dex asked, smiling at Isis.

Veronica could have told him it was a lost cause, but there was a certain entertainment in watching him try and fail. The cat was out of the bag; she might as well get a little fun out of it.

"I wouldn't believe you if you told me the sky was blue," Isis said.

Dex smiled a little more broadly. Veronica tried to surreptiously glance at the spot under his chair where one might place an explosive device (a _fake_ explosive device) if one wished to scare off a not entirely welcome guest with a show of smoke and mirrors.

"Really, Ronnie. The spitting image of you. Well, a bit more savvy when it comes to computers, presumably, but aside from that little detail, the resemblance is simply uncanny."

Bryce scowled. He'd gotten rid of the Santa costume, which might be a good thing. Dex had a very long memory. "Eat your food, Mister Dex."

"No change there." Dex chuckled. "But you, Ronnie. Nothing like your father, are you? Maid Marian, to his Robin Hood."

"I think they both kind of did the same thing, actually," Isis said. "Robin and Marian, I mean. And they were lovers."

"All depends on the version, angel," Dex said. "Anyway, my point is: we're family, pet. Like it or not, hate me or appreciate me for who I am, but the fact remains, when push comes to shove, we have each other's back. You know that."

"Is that what happened in Tokyo? You having my back? Because that's not what I remember."

Dex sighed. Dex was a weasel. "Please. I thought we'd already had this conversation. Time to move on. That job right there, that's good money for a good deed. Cross my black heart and hope to die."

"Dad taught me to never take jobs during the holidays," Veronica said. 

"Fine." Dex scowled. "Come see me the day after tomorrow then. Don't be such a stranger, just because some harsh words were exchanged. I miss you, Ronnie. My bodyguard misses you. He's been dieting like a fiend - and all just so he can impress you next time you brighten my doorstep."

"I'll think about it."

"And I, I will consider _not_ blowing you to - where was it again? Bermuda?"


End file.
